When We Were Still Okay
by TunelessLyric
Summary: In the prequel to Line in the Sand, Agent California is just a girl trying to keep on top of some of the very best in the UNSC. She, an ex-Marine, finds herself in the middle of friends, love and betrayal from every side. Red vs Blue language warning.
1. We Were Still Okay

_Um, that was a wee bit embarrassing. I apologize for the inconvenience and any confusion caused. I got a little excited and accidentally uploaded the wrong document. This is the actual chapter. Sorry. _

_For those of you who have been with us since the beginning, a huge thank you goes out to each and every one of you. I love y'all! You guys broke 3 000 views on _Sand_ which blew my mind. Anywasys, I'm done rambling now._

* * *

**When We Were Still Okay**

_**-**__It was so long ago, I barely remember it_

"Hey, you look lonely."

She sets her crystal glass down on the smooth bar. She glances up from her drink at the man speaking to her. He has medium brown hair cut short, an easy smile and dark blue eyes. She narrows her eyes through the pulsing music and strobing rainbow of lights. "Have we met?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "Nope, I just saw you over here alone and thought to myself, _Why would such a good-looking woman like her be sitting all alone?_"

She has to admit, he's pretty smooth. "Looking for a date?" She inquires, thin eyebrow quirking.

He sits in the vacant barstool next to her. He leans an elbow onto the bar and cocks his head. "What gave you that idea?"

She snorts. "The pickup line was kind of obvious," she says quietly.

He doesn't seem unfazed by her calling him out. "Damn. I thought it was really natural."

"Not enough time in front of a mirror," she tells the man. She takes hold of her drink again.

"I'm sorry, what's your name?" He apologizes genuinely.

"Cali," she replies before taking a sip. She studies him through the dark liquid.

"Cali…?" he prompts.

She sets her glass down again. She flashes a small smile and half turns away. "Just 'Cali'."

He takes her in critically. Shoulder-length wavy auburn hair, icy grey eyes. She wears a gold halter style, knee-length dress that catches the flashing lights from the club. It shows off her curves very well. "And what brings you to Club Errera, _Just_ _Cali_?"

She hesitates for a heartbeat. Cali decides to just be honest. "I'm due to ship out tomorrow morning."

Surprise colours his face. "Really? Me, too."

She arches another eyebrow. "What a coincidence," she murmurs. "Who might you be?"

"Why, I am the one and only Foxtrot-12," he says mysteriously, complete with wiggling fingers.

"Well, Agent New York," Cali calls him out again, "that makes more sense."

"Wait, you know me?" he asks her. He looks over his shoulder and leans even nearer to Cali.

She shrugs. "Agent California. Nice to meet you New York." She sticks out a hand.

"York," he corrects, shaking her hand firmly. "Wow, you have a very strong shake."

Cali smiles again. "Marine training does that to a person," she admits.

York gives a comical double take. "Whoa, you're Marine? How did you end up in Freelancer?"

"I'm just that good," she replies evasively. "Really, what happened to get me into the Project is confidential."

He shrugs dismissively. "Have you met the Dakotas yet? I'll introduce you."

Cali grabs her glass and stands abruptly. "All right. Only because you're never going to get anywhere with me."

York offers her an arm. "Oh, fine. You be a hoity-toity soldier then. I'm just trying to enjoy my last night of freedom."

Cali cautiously slides her hand around his proffered limb. They thread their way through the dance floor, avoiding gyrating bodies and enthusiastic deejays. He leads her over to a booth in a somewhat quieter corner of the club. A man with blond hair so pale it is nearly white and cornflower blue eyes sits stiffly. Next to him, the slouching girl is nearly a perfect match of him – her hair is about down to her chin and spiky. They sit on one side of the table. The other is empty, presumably York's seat.

"North, South, this is Cali California," he introduces with a flourish.

The man waves and grins. His companion glances at her with interest.

"I'm North Dakota and this is my twin sister South," the man says politely.

"Hi, I guess we'll all be leaving together in the morning for the Project," Cali speaks as she slides into the beckoning bench seat.

"Yeah, I'm glad there'll be other women at least," South responds. "I was beginning to think I was going to be the only one."

"No," refutes Cali quickly. "That girl over there is Carolina."

They follow her pointing finger to a woman sitting all alone at a centre table. She also has red hair, brighter than Cali's, though. Carolina wears a flashy green tank top and silver pencil skirt. York lets out a whistle and exchanges a look with North.

"I'm gonna go check if she wants company," he says. York hops up and wanders over to the neighbouring table of the stunning woman. He pulls out a white lighter and flicks it on and off.

Cali turns back to the twins at her table. "Is he always like this?"

North nods sagely. "I've known him since we were eight. Casanova Cowboy likes to chat up any available female and has for as long as I can remember."

Cali laughs at him. "And does _Cowboy_ know you talk like that about him?"

"Yup," South answers. "Actually, he's the one who came up with the name."

Across the room, Carolina checks what her neighbour is doing. A moment later, she gets up and moves into the chair opposite his. Cali can't believe her eyes.

"No way," she mutters. "Not like that."

"There you have it ladies and gents," North laughs. "Behold, the magic of the Cowboy."

Cali sighs in resignation. "I was just thinking about how nice he was."

South snorts with mirth. "That's just what York wanted you to think. Trust me, he's all charm, that one."

Cali drains her glass and slams it down. "I don't know about you, but I came here to dance, not sit in a corner. You can come if you want, but I don't expect you to." With that, she sweeps off to the floor and wraps herself into the crowd.

She starts moving to the beat, letting all thoughts about COs and the politics in the UNSC Marine Corps slip away. That's exactly why she took the opportunity to join Project Freelancer anyway. She lets the music wash over her and forgets all the drama from the last months. No reason to remember it, she never has to deal with that shit again.

"Hey, a little bird told me you're Agent California."

Cali closes her eyes and draws a breath in through her nose before turning. Her annoyed swipe dries on her lips as she takes in the interrupter of her good time. Close to seven feet, he is bald andbrown-eyed pile of muscle – this man is certainly not someone she is about to start a brawl with.

"I'm Maine," he goes on in a voice like gravel rattling together. His voice takes on a hint of anger.

"Sorry. And _I _was having fun," says Cali's fearless streak. "Sorry, I don't mean to ruin your night, but that included _not_ being pestered by a bad-tempered man named Maine."

His heavy jaw clenches. He waits a moment before speaking again. "_P__estering_ you? I should get to know you. You're probably my biggest competition, ex-Marine and all."

"Did York tell you that?" she demands.

"I heard from Connie," he spits.

Cali forgets for a moment to be angry. "Who?"

"Connecticut talking to Wyoming. He hacked your file."

Cali glares at a woman in a black dress. She has short brown hair and dark eyes and chats with a man wearing a moustache and floral shirt. Cali questions the fashion statement and then sighs. "Is there anyone here _not_ Freelancer?"

She huffs and marches over to the two new Project members to clear up any misconceptions.

"All right. Wyoming?"

He looks at her thoughtfully. "California?"

Cali switches her gaze to the woman. "Connecticut?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do that again. I like my privacy."

"I can understand why," mutters Wyoming in a thick British accent. "Don't believe anything you hear about Canadian colonies being kind," he adds aside to Connecticut.

"Well, I wonder why I'm not kind," Cali fires back. She quells her rising temper. "There's a reason you need high-level clearance to view my file. I never want to hear about it from somebody else ever again, got it?"

Wyoming nodded. "You have my word."

Cali snorts. "I should think so. Now, what brought you here?"

By the end of the night, Cali has met about twenty Freelancers. She ends up leaving with York, North, South and Connecticut. The group has a hotel suite just down the street from the hottest club on Reach. Cali crashes on the floor next to Connie who occupies the couch. She has a feeling that they were the best thing Project Freelancer has to offer her in the way of friends.

But that was when they were still okay.


	2. We Were Strangers

_Thanks for all the enthusiasm over Cali's return and origins. I apologize for the lateness of this update, since I'm now on summer holidays the times when these chapters get up are going to vary greatly. I'll do my best to make sure a chapter finds you on Mondays still, however._

* * *

**When We Were Strangers**

_-That first day_

Cali leans her head back against the wall. She taps a foot against the windowsill she has perched on. The deep-set windows onboard the ship _Mother of Invention_ are the perfect size and shape for curling up in. As she beats out a steady rhythm, Cali watches as the _Invention_ leaves the orbit of Reach.

The colony steadily shrinks from view. When it fades, Cali feels like her life as a member of Project Freelancer has officially begun.

Sure, she signed the appropriate waivers. Checked _yes_ and _no_. She aced the fitness evaluation, proud of her Marine background, while watching other hopefuls flunk out on it. Cali proved she could plan, strategize – even though she loathes the process – and execute missions. She left her company and tiny home behind. Now she just stepped off of a Pelican and one of her favourite planets. Now is the point of no return.

"All Agents, please proceed to the training room immediately for orientation," chirps the bright and cheerful shipboard AI. Her voice is already familiar to Cali. She thinks its name is Phyllis.

She slides reluctantly out of her cozy nook. She heaves a sigh before heading in search of the training room. Three halls later, she is hopelessly lost The entire ship is just one bland corridor after another with no distinguishing features Cali can discern.

"AI, help me find the training room," she orders in muttered defeat.

"I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. Please, call me FILSS. You will find it easier to get to the training room by turning left at the next chance, right after that and then another right."

"Thanks… FILSS." Cali heads off again.

She meets an imposing set of Titanium-A blast doors. They slide open to reveal a throng of people crammed into a polycrete-floored arena. It is about two storeys high and easily sixty feet by sixty feet. Cali pushes into the crowd, searching for a familiar face.

"California, over here," calls a masculine voice over the excited chatter.

Cali peers around. She notices North and South not far from where she is rooted by indecision. She begins fighting her way through to them. Cali reaches the siblings and York a minute later.

"Thought you weren't coming," probes York with a smirk.

"Wandered a bit too far," she replies vaguely.

He holds up his hands. "Hey, all these damn halls look the same to me, too. I just have the sense to – "

"Hold up there Cowboy! I saw you with the Dakotas twenty minutes ago," Cali interrupts with a grin. "By the way, someone picked up all of those breadcrumbs."

York feigns hurt. She isn't sure if it is from having his trail removed or because she witnessed him bent over, planting a long line of breadcrumbs on the brushed steel floor. Before he can respond, however, silence deadens the air.

"Thank you for your attention, Freelancers." A man in a semi-formal suit and tie addresses them. His words caress the air, genlty wrapped in a Southern drawl. "I am the Director of Project Freelancer. While you are with us I expect all of you to listen to me. I am the one calling the shots, making the missions and, if need be, wiping your slate and sending you home."

Cali cranes her neck to better examine the Director. He looks to be middle aged, but with cryogenic sleep on long slipspace trips that holds little bearing on his actual age. His hair and goatee are still largely black. A pair of square, black-rimmed glasses sit on a strong nose. Behind them, a pair of brilliant green eyes are deeply set. Handsome.

"I ask that you understand my rules. First, no live ammunition is to be found anywhere but the shooting range and armoury. There is to be no physical fighting outside of this room. There are five locker rooms, depending which team you are assigned to, you will only be allowed in that room. No exceptions. Finally, the east wing of the third floor is off-limits. Any Freelancer caught there will be escorted out immediately. There is nothing – and I must stress this – _nothing _for any of you there.

"Teams will be announced on this Board – " the Director waves to a blue screen to his left. All the agents' names are in alphabetical order with a number next to it. " – but right now you will find a room number. It is the room you will be sharing with a fellow Agent. There are Boards all over the ship. The will be employed for a variety of reasons over the course of our Project.

"Go, make friends, meet your new roommate, have a look around," encourages the Director. "Should you need something, feel free to ask the ship's AI, FILSS." He bows his head and stalks from the arena.

Cali scans the Board for her room number. R24. She knows where that is, at least. She decides to go there first. When she turns, the Dakotas and York are already leaving.

She forces her own path out, entering a river of moving Freelancers. She heads left and begins looking for her quarters. Nearly ten minutes later, she finds it. Cali keys in her code – given to her after her application was approved – into a keypad on the wall to get inside. 4239.

She sees two twin beds, two chrome nightstands, two chests at the root of the beds and a bookshelf. Cali wanders through the unit and finds a bathroom, closet and a second door. Before following it, she hears someone come into the living space.

"Hello? Anyone here?" a female voice calls. Cali recognizes it.

She steps into the bedroom/entryway. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes is standing between the beds.

"Yeah, I guess you're my roommate," Cali says with a smile.

Connie looks over her shoulder and scrutinizes Cali. "Yeah, well, you weren't too bad last night."

"How come you go by Connie?"

Agent Connecticut shrugs. "Everyone's nickname for me. I think they find _Connecticut_ too hard after a few drinks."

Cali laughs a little. "I think it suits you. I've gone by Cali all my life."

Connie sets herself down on the bed closest to the door. "I think I'll take this one, if that's all right with you."

Cali nods. "I was just going to offer it to you." She flops onto the bed not already occupied, pushing it against the wall. "This is what I wanted to do anyway."

Connie laughs at her. "I think we're going to enjoy rooming together."

"I do my best."

The two Freelancers collapse into a fit of giggles.


	3. I First Saw Your Face

_Yep, that time once more. Happy Monday, sorry about the lateness, have a nice week!_

* * *

**When I First Saw Your Face**

_-It was in the middle of a meeting_

A sharp blaring wakes Cali the next morning. She rolls over and slaps the off button of her alarm clock. She hops out of bed and starts pulling on clothes. By the time Cali stands ready in a black t-shirt and knee-length shorts, Connie has disappeared under her pillow.

Cali takes a running leap and flops down on her roommate. "Get up, Lazypants!"

"Fuck you, California," is the muffled reply.

She slides off of Connie, dragging the sheets with her. A noise of protests escapes the other woman.

"Right. I'll get you for that," Connie threatens, emerging from her bed at last.

"Sure. Just don't miss breakfast, eh?" retorts Cali. She heads out the door before Connie can answer.

For a moment Cali just stands glancing up and down the corridor. Where is the mess hall again? She catches movement farther left. A man with dirty blond hair and blue-green eyes is heading out of his own room.

"Hey, help!" Cali hurries over to him. "I'm Cali."

"Morning, Cali," he greets with a smile. "I don't suppose you remember the way to the mess hall?"

"I think it's this way." Cali points in a random direction.

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Not at all."

He shrugs and heads the way she indicates. "Only one way to find out."

The mystery man introduces himself as DC. Together they set off. By selecting corridors at random, the two Freelancers somehow hit a major stroke of luck and arrive at their destination.

"How about that?" she asks proudly, pulling up in front of the plaque declaring the adjacent room as the mess.

DC flashes her a skeptical look. "I doubt it's supposed to take ten minutes to just walk down a hallway." He jerks his chin behind Cali.

She spins to see Connie leaving their room about a hundred meters down. She shrugs. "We just took the scenic route."

DC shakes his head with a chuckle. "I hope there's still food. That's all."

With that, he turns and opens the door. Cali follows DC into a wide cafeteria. There are five tables, each with a bench on either side. Five people seem to fit on a bench comfortably. Most tables are full already.

"Cali!"

She looks around to see York, Carolina and South waving at her. Cali sits on York's left near the end of the bench. "What's all this?"

Carolina tosses her copper hair and beckons North, who just walked in too. "We're supposed to sit in teams. They assigned them ten minutes ago. Now we just have to wait for Maine, Wyoming, Florida, Washington and Connecticut."

"Connie was right behind North and I," Cali says. "We're in the same room."

"Wash wasn't even dressed when I left," snorts York. "Maybe he'll get going faster if he misses breakfast on our first day."

A silence falls around the table. Cali drums her fingers while she waits. Pert of her is excited to meet the other team members as the rest of her laments the fact she can't work alone. All through her Marine career, Cali mostly played the position of scout. She has little patience for teamwork, preferring to do her job alone.

When the door opens again, Wyoming saunters in, closely shadowed by a taller and older man with black hair.

"Who's this?" asks York as they sit down.

"Agent Florida, at your service. And I must say, you are all looking particularly chipper today," he introduces himself.

"I bet you didn't see the others?" South says tiredly.

"Oh, they're on their way."

Everyone starts. Having been focused on Wyoming and Florida, no one noticed Connie join the group. She plunks down next to Cali.

"Knock knock," Wyoming baits, easing the tension.

"Who's there?" asks York, leaning onto his elbows.

"Here we go now," sighs North good-naturedly.

"Banana," answers Wyoming with a smirk.

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock," repeats the Brit.

"Who's there?" demands York.

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

Cali lets her head drop onto her arms and leans on the table. Wyoming and York continue to chase each other in circles.

"I warned you," mutters North.

"Banana," says Wyoming. Yet again.

Maine comes in and sits across from York – "Banana _who_?" – and throws him a strange look.

"Freelancers, your attention please," thunders the Director over the din.

Immediately all conversation grinds to a complete stop. Even Wyoming breaks off mid _Banana_. Any standing agent hurries to take a seat. Suddenly forty-nine pairs of eyes swivel to the front of the cafeteria-style hall.

"Good morning everyone. I trust you are all sitting at your proper table and have gotten to know your teammates by now." His leafy green gaze sweeps the room levelly as he speaks. "As you undoubtedly know, there will be ten Freelancers on each team. Only nine will be regularly deployed together. One member is a reserve or scout member. They are attached to a squad but will rarely accompany the full group. Instead, they are likely to be assigned individual missions. The reserves are the following Freelancers – "

The sudden muttering that erupts causes the Director to break off. He glares at something near the rear of the hall.

Cali turns to see what everyone is fussing about. In the doorway stands a man. A furious scarlet blush has taken hold of his face, creeping up his neck and into the roots of his spiky blond hair. He ducks his head and stumbles through the crowd to the vacant spot across the table from Cali.

"Agent Washington, how nice of you to grace us with your presence." The Director's voice is hard with reproach.

Washington slides down in his seat away from the angry glares. He mumbles an apology. Cali bites back an angry remark.

York gives the new arrival a hard stare. "I _told_ you to get a move on," he hisses.

"The reserve member are as follows," the Director says with a final pointed stare at Cali's table. "Agent Nevada for Team Five, Agent Indiana for Team Four, Agent Kentucky for Team Three, Agent Montana for Team Two and Agent California for Team One."

Cali releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She isn't technically on a team! Relief floods over her.

"A final announcement, if you could spare the attention," barks the Director. "Armour fittings for every team will be today. Team One will meet me in Locker Room Alpha as soon as they have finished their meal. The others have been scheduled and FILSS will alert you." With that, the Director stalks from the mess hall.


	4. We First Met

_Well, another Monday. The good thing about this fic updating every week is that I always know what day it is. No summer mix up. I hope everyone is enjoying their vacations and, for those of you who aren't on any vacation, have a good week!_

_I am also very sorry that this is going up so late. I admit I forgot._

* * *

**When We First Met**

_-You were hopelessly confused by a heap of metal_

"Banana _who_?" York yells again.

"Shut _up_!" replies Maine, his gravelly voice angry.

"Knock knock," reiterates Wyoming, unfazed by the hulking Freelancer's glare.

"Both of you shut your faces," South says darkly.

Cali shakes her head and pushes through the knot of people standing in front of the locker room door. She leads them inside. Two long rows of grey metal lockers line the main room. A pair of squat benches sit between them, forming a wide aisle. Around the corner is a row of walled-off showers.

The Director and Counselor stand in the aisle. The Director points to a locker when he meets Cali's eyes coolly. Wordlessly the Freelancers are all directed to a locker.

Cali goes to hers quickly. It is situated in the centre of the left row. She touches her index finger to the scan pad and hears a _click _as the lock disengages. She swings the door open and lets out a tiny gasp. She wastes no time hauling the black undersuit on over her t-shirt and shorts. She fumbles into the slate gray armour. Piece by piece, she finds out how it fits together. It isn't entirely unlike her Marine suit. After about ten minutes Cali steps back.

She is the fourth to get fully armoured. Florida has his adjusted by Maine as the Counselor is shown by Carolina where hers is too loose. Cali gazes around the room, trying to find someone to lend a hand to. She sighs after spotting Wash. He is only about half-dressed. Cali rolls her eyes and watches with mild fascination as he hops on one foot, trying in vain to jam on a boot. She crosses the locker room.

"Sit," she commands.

He bumps heavily down onto the bench and surrenders his boot to Cali. She crouches down and undoes the latches on the side. "Try now."

Washington takes his boot back and slides his foot into it self-consciously. "Thanks," he mutters.

Cali doesn't waste time with a reply. Instead, she roughly slaps on a shoulder guard and begins to tighten it. She is faintly satisfied when he makes no complaint as to her gruffness or how hard the metal connects with him. Cali then cinches his chestplate more snugly. Together, Washington and Cali manage to get all of the flatly-shining suit on him.

"Again, thanks…?" he trails off questioningly.

"California." She meets his kind green eyes. They are paler around the pupils and a stormier, harder green on the outer edges. "Cali."

He stands and sticks out a gloved hand. "Wash."

She shakes it firmly.

"Now that you are correctly suited," drawls the Director with a half-glare to Washington – Wash, Cali corrects herself – and continues, "follow me and we will paint your armour so you can recognize one another."

Cali scoops up her helmet from the shelf in her locker before shutting it. She files out behind the others.

"Who the hell is there?" asks York, a note of desperation creeping in.

"Banana," responds Wyoming smugly.

Cali grits her teeth.

She puts on her helmet. Instantly a dozen windows open, clouding her vision. She lets her eyes fall into the disorienting double-focus to keep from ramming into the back of South, just like in Basic, to address them. As she walks – every step heavier than usual due to the added weight of her armour – she begins to play with her heads-up display settings.

The Counselor calls her name. She steps up into the strange apparatus and seals her suit against the paint spray. After a minute of breathing recycled air, Cali is waved through. She climbs out of the narrow tube, brushing shoulders with Carolina.

As Cali joins the group that has already been painted, she takes her helmet back off. She studies the light reflecting off the gold metal and forest green accents. Then she scrutinizes her team.

Maine in white and brown will be easy to remember with his EVA helmet. York's tan colour gels with his Cowboy attitude. Florida, in dark blue, Cali can associate with the ocean. Wyoming went with white. North and South stand shoulder to shoulder in purple and magenta respectively, showing off their matching green accents. Wash shuffles his feet as she takes in his silver and yellow choice.

Carolina steps out of the painter a cyan blue. Connie takes her place.

"Banana."

"Banana. Fucking. Who?"

The Director ignores Wyoming and York.

"Knock knock."

York fixes the white agent with a cold stare.

"Oh, come on, you can't leave me hanging," prompts Wyoming.

York looks the other way and spits through his teeth, "Who's there?"

"Orange."

Connie rejoins them, her armour now a rich brown and striped with pale grey.

"Or… Orange?" York reels in shock. "Orange who?"

"Orange you glad – " Wyoming breaks off to chuckle. "Orange you glad I didn't say _Banana_?"


	5. I Trained

_If you have half as much fun reading this as I had writing, you'll be having a mess of fun. Enjoy._

* * *

**When I Trained**

_-Team building exercise_

Cali stands in the doorway. She lingers, uncertain what to do or say.

"Agent California, come in," chirps FILSS.

Cali cautiously does was the AI asks.

"Please select a training program to begin."

A menu opens on Cali's HUD. She skims the names. _Last Standing, Target Training, Mix and Match, Crash Course, Simulation Square, Strategize!_ and _Best Bet_ among them. She chooses one at random.

"You have selected _Crash Course_, are you sure this is the session you would like to run?"

"Just do it, FILSS," sighs Cali, tiring already of the AI's forced cheer.

She walks to the middle of the floor. A sharp movement above eyelevel makes her glance up. A paned-in observation gallery is built into the wall near the ceiling. She can see a silver shape and a brown one in the gallery and knows the rest of Team One is there, too. Cali strains for a heartbeat, trying to attach names to the colours.

"Program beginning in three," warns the AI.

The gold agent spins around. All of the empty polycrete room is filled with a jungle gym-type structure. Cali scrutinizes it and realizes that is a far too simple term for the mass straddling the training room. Each bar is coated with a substance, either an acid green or pitch black. They are irregularly spaced and meet at haphazard angles. There are short platforms interspersed throughout the structure and are ringed by beams. Upon closer inspection, Cali sees chain ladders, rope bridges and metal tube slides. She rolls her eyes.

"Your run will be timed, activated by stepping over the red line on the floor," explains FILSS. "The goal is to climb to the apex of the structure and touch the ceiling. Good luck!"

Cali hesitates over that first step.

"Agent California, begin," FILSS prompts.

"Anyone want to party up?" Cali asks into her comm.

"I'll join," says Connie.

"Yeah, all right," enthuses York.

"One more for even teams?" offers North.

Cali waves them down. She bounces on her toes – careful not to cross the line – as she awaits their arrival. Connie is the first to enter the arena, helmet in her arms. The tan figure of York follows directly with North.

"Agents York and North, begin at the far side. Agent Connecticut, you will be on California's team," instructs FILSS.

The male Freelancers hurry into position.

"Exercise begins in three, two, one," the AI says tersely. "Begin."

Cali sprints to the base of the structure. She closes a gloved hand around a green bar and nearly loses her grip instantly. Her fingers skid over the substance coating it. She reaches and arm over it and hooks her elbow around the first handhold.

"The green ones are slick," she warns Connie.

Her roommate flashes an acknowledgement light on Cali's HUD. A brown glove takes hold of a black bar.

"These ones don't let go," Connie complains. She swears and struggles to tug away.

Cali nods. "We could stand on those and use our elbows around the green ones," she suggests, trying to make a strategy form sluggishly. Planning has never been her strong suit.

Connie doesn't reply, focusing instead on removing her hand from the black bar.

The gold agent hauls her armoured bulk upward, wrapping her other arm around a new rod. Cali lifts herself from the floor with a grunt. She wedges her feet on the same black rung Connie has finally detached herself from.

"York, let's go," says North with a laugh. "Quit hanging around."

Cali peers through the climbing equipment. The tan soldier swings upside down by the knees from a rung.

"You try it," he retorts. "This isn't as easy as it looks. Plus, I'm stuck."

Cali laughs as she reaches for her next hand – scratch that – _elbow_ hold. She stretches up as far as possible and pulls her feet off their bar. Except that was the plan. The soles of her boots are stuck firmly in place.

"Any luck removing yourself?" she asks Connie.

"You have to twist and really yank," her roommate replies. "There has _got_ to be a better way."

Cali twists her left foot side to side and gives a hard pull. It pops loose. Cali's heart leaps into her mouth as she swings jerkily from the elbows, right knee protesting as it stretches painfully. "Help," she squeaks.

Connie sighs. "Hook your knee over a green one, too. Just be more careful next time."

Cali tucks her left leg tight to her chest and manoeuvres it around a nearby green rung. Cautiously, she extricates her other limb from the black bar. Cali wraps it around the green one below her hands. She swiftly swings herself up and stands, balanced precariously, on the slippery green perch. One arm reaches up and hooks over, the other wraps under the new rung. Then her right leg is placed so the rung is snug to the inside of her knee. The left follows. It is ungainly, but quicker than North's method of leapfrogging with York on the black bars.

Cali notice Connie copying her motions. Not soon enough, the pair drag themselves up and onto the first platform.

Cali stands shakily and surveys her surroundings. "Take the bridge to the centre pole, or chain ladder?" she mutters to herself. There is one long pole that bisects the structure. If Cali climbed a bit more, she could just shimmy to the top.

Connie lays on her back, gasping to catch her breath.

Cali throws her a withering glare. "Are you fucking dying? What are you, eighty years old?"

"No, asshole," spits the brown Freelancer between great heaves of breath. "Just used to jetpacking."

Cali begins scampering up the sagging chain ladder. It swings under Cali's weight and tries to flip her horizontally, belly up. "You Rangers are too soft."

"Take that back," Connie growls playfully.

"Make me!"

"I warned you."

Cali laughs as she rolls onto a mesh net. "Dream on."

"York?" North asks, face to face – well, visor to visor, really – with Cali.

She jumps up, unsteady as the net rocks with her every move to try and throw her off. Cali looks up. A rope and plank bridge is suspended just above her head. She jumps awkwardly and grips a plank firmly. She pulls her chin up and even with the side of the wood. She throws a leg over it and rolls onto the bridge. "Nope."

She stands and swings with the bridge. Cali peeks over the edge. York is halfway to the net, Connie nearly there. Cali offers a hand to the purple and green agent below her.

"Why?" he asks.

"Do you want it, or not?" she counters. Cali offers it again.

North takes it and the side of the bridge in either hand. Cali drops and twists onto her side when he jumps. North lands on his chest, nearly knocking her back down.

Cali crawls to the end of the bridge. She glances up. They are about halfway to the ceiling. North is taller than Cali, so he won't need to get as far as her.

She turns and ducks into a tube slide. Cali puts a hand on opposite walls and pushes her weight up. Her booted feet scrabble for purchase on the smooth metal, eventually finding a panel of rivets. She propels herself forward with a great leap and extends her hands up. She manages to grasp the higher lip of the slide. With a short struggle, Cali hauls her tall form out of the silver tube.

Cali finds herself on a beam in the middle section of the tangle. She looks down, gripping the slide until her fingers ache. North is heaving York onto the rope bridge and Connie is flopped on her back on the mesh net below. She flips Cali off.

"Thanks for leaving me behind," snarks Connie in her roommate's ear.

Cali shrugs and shifts her focus to the far end of the beam. She agilely runs to the other side, making sure to plant each heel against the toes of her last foot to keep from tumbling off. She stops gracefully by slamming full-tilt into the metal post.

Someone knocks on the glass near her head. Cali starts and tightens her arms around the metal. She looks around her arms and sees the freckled face of Wash. They are nearly face to face, barring the window and Cali's visor. She unpolarizes her visor and sticks her tongue out at him.

Before Wash has time to react, Cali shimmies carefully up the thick post. She grits her teeth and ignores the ache in her arms. She focuses on each pull and breath, not the three Freelancers catching up, not the ground nearly twenty feet below. Cali fights for every inch, unwilling to give in.

Finally, she steps onto the final platform. As she peels her fingers from the cylinder of metal, York's head pokes through the hole in the centre of the platform.

He hauls himself up next to her. "Nice job. I only got this far by watching you," he says warmly.

Cali narrows her eyes. Being turned sideways from York and worrying about catching her breath, she does not notice his pale brown arm reaching for the ceiling until too late. Cali's hand flies upward and makes contact just after York's does.

"Congratulations, Agent York," chirrups FILSS. "You have won."

Cali grins and wraps herself back around the pole. She slides down until hitting the ground abruptly. "Better enjoy it, Cowboy. I'm going to win next time."


	6. You Made the Board

_Well, I'm going to apologize. I had a long and busy day at work and this is ridiculously late. Thanks for your patience! And I'm throwing you into this chapter._

* * *

**When You Made the Board**

_-And I never did_

The crowd presses forward. Amazing how fifty Freelancers all push and shove to get a good place just to see a blue screen turn on. Just some white squiggles that seem to mean so much, oh-so-enthralling.

Cali lets herself be jostled. She plants her feet wide and refuses to allow anyone to take her place front and centre. Next to her, Connie chews her nails. Cali clears her throat loudly, causing her roommate of one month start. With an expression full of guilt, Connie laces her fingers behind her back.

Suddenly, the bottom name scrolls onto the big screen. A mournful wail accompanies its appearance as Delaware realizes she is the lowest-ranked agent.

Cali finds herself alternating between sighs of relief and tensely-held breaths. Ever since her second place finish on the Crash Course a month ago, Cali has been trying to keep a relatively low profile. All the others on the team have gone on a war tour at a simulation base planetside. Cali has yet to go on her first mission.

Number twenty-five flashes up. Oregon. Still no member of Team One up on the Leader Board – the Director's name for it – yet.

Cali remembers when everyone returned, eyes shining, from their Capture the Flag day. Sure, Carolina's team beat the snot out of Maine's, but they all got a chance to prove their worth. And Carolina was down a member without Cali.

Slot fifteen is taken by Nevada, Cali's and Connie's neighbour to the right. The stocky, green and black armoured agent nods to herself once.

Michigan, fourteen. A tall, lavender and cobalt woman.

New Jersey, thirteen. A man in dull red.

Connie's eyes widen when her name scrolls up beside twelve. She lets out a squeal and jumps up and down in excitement.

Number eleven… _California_.

She feels every drop of anxiety wash away. Not bad for a girl who hasn't even had her first mission yet!

Ten and nine go to Georgia and Utah. Maine grins when his name comes up in eighth position, followed quickly with a clap on Florida's back when his roommate takes seventh place.

Washington seems ready to burst with happiness when his place is announced as sixth. South lets out a yell at seeing the big five before her name, her brother much calmer as he takes the fourth place slot. Wyoming laughs and grins widely when he realizes he is ranked third.

York and Carolina lean forward. The tan Freelancer sags a little when he reads Carolina in top spot. She, however, smiles smugly and looks very pleased with herself.

The Director steps up again. "One final note about the Leader Board. It can – and will – change. Nothing, no rank, no Freelancer, is locked in any one place. There is room for anyone to move up or _down_." That last is aimed at Carolina and Delaware.

"Your rank will increase for each mission completed well, for beating higher-ranked agents in training, for setting a record high score in a training program or an equally commendable action. Furthermore, you may lose your place for failing missions, losing to lower-ranked peers, a record low score in a program and equally laughable actions. Good luck, Freelancers."


	7. We Played

_Okay, so I'm a horrible person for not updating yesterday or warning everyone I was going to be on vacation last week. So sorry! Anyway, here's the chapter that's a whole eight days late. Thanks for bearing with me, everyone. _

* * *

**When We Played**

_-Grifball League_

"I want…" DC squints his blue-green eyes at the others ranged out loosely before him. "York."

Cali shrugs. She does a quick headcount. "Wash, come play with us!"

He shakes his head from his seat on the bench. "I don't know how. I'd just get in everyone's way."

Cali shakes her own head. "No you won't. Come on, you can be on my team. We'll teach you how to play. Besides, we need to have fourteen," she replies.

Reluctantly, he stands and moves to her side. "Are you sure?" he asks weakly.

She nods. "You are looking at Earth's best Grifball team captain ever."

"Of all time?" someone in the crowd murmurs.

"Of all time," Cali agrees. "We'll cream them."

DC sighs theatrically. "You keep telling yourself that." He points to Maine. "You're with me."

As the huge Freelancer joins DC's side of the training room, Cali inspects the remaining agents.

"I think we should pick – " starts Wash.

"Wait, I've got this," Cali cuts him off. She does not miss the apologetic glance Connie throws him from DC's side. The pair have been exchanging looks since the Board was unveiled two weeks ago. Cali shakes herself. "Nev."

The petite Freelancer is perfect for a right-side Defender.

"I'll take South," says DC.

"Then that leaves me to pick Utah."

While South jogs to join her brother, DC, York, Maine, Connie and Georgia, Utah meets Cali. The gold Freelancer gazes at each team member briefly. Nevada, Wash, Wyoming, Utah, Florida and Michigan were chosen for speed and their shorter size. DC's team is definitely the bigger and larger team.

"Five minutes," says Cali. "Then we play."

She calls her team to their endzone. "Okay, Wash, Grifball For Beginners. The team captain – that's me – plays Runner. That means DC and I are the only ones to touch or worry about the Grifball. There are two defenders, that will be you and Utah. You guys just hit anybody not tagged Red on your HUD. The four Tanks basically just keep all those on the other team – who will be tagged Blue – away from the Grifball.

"Whenever a Runner picks up the ball, they turn orange. If they get the ball to the other team's endzone, they win a point. Then they run like hell."

While Cali talks, she sets her VISR to Grifball mode. Immediately her team's armour turns red on her visor, IFF tags are the only way to tell her teammates apart now.

"What was that part about hitting people?" Wash queries nervously.

The team follows her to ordnance tables. Laid out across the metal tables are gravity hammers. Cali sweeps her arm over them. "Take your pick."

She grins then polarizes her visor. Cali picks up the nearest hammer. She cracks her fingers and wrists as she walks backwards. Cali watches her teammates heft their own weapons. "Set it to stun," she prompts Wash.

He dips his head and flicks the setting down to the weakest charge.

"By the way," she adds casually, "the Blues get energy swords."

While he gapes, Cali lopes to the centre of the arena. She calls her six teammates together with an arm gesture. A sense of pride warms her heart when she feels the rest of the agents tighten ranks at her sides.

"Remember, just keep them off the Grifball," she says into the team's comm link.

"What's our strategy?" asks Michigan, voice high with excitement.

"We're better at avoiding them… " Wyoming's voice fades until it is little more than a meaningless buzz to Cali.

Her fingers curl around her hammer's hilt. She hears the metal plating on the backs of her hands grind together, her fists are so tight.

DC and the Blue Team swagger up to take position across the faint white line bisecting the arena.

"_Grifball_ program selected," sings out FILSS. "Red Team ready?"

Cali rolls her shoulders. "Ready, FILSS."

"Blue Team ready?"

"Bring it on," crows DC.

A panel slides back between the two seven-agent teams.

"Just remember guys, you're smaller and faster. You can slip through their fingers," reminds Cali.

A shiny, new black Grifball rises from the empty space in the centre of the floor.

"Agent California, Agent DC, touch gloves, please."

DC steps to the edge of the ball platform. Cali stretches a fist over the gap and bumps his proffered white one. Cali depolarizes her visor. He mimics her.

"I'm winning those credits," he says confidently.

"Whatever floats your Ghost," scoffs Cali. "I'll wring those creds from you, make no mistake."

"Three… Two… One… Begin!"

The training room explodes from silence to uproar, from stillness to a whirl of colour. For Cali, it sends a jolt of fire through her blood. She dives forwards, kicking out at a Blue. He tumbles back from Cali. She lunges to the side as an energy sword hisses to life inches from her arm.

Cali tucks and somersaults away. As she rolls to her feet, out flashes her gravity hammer. She allows herself a satisfied smile as Georgia goes down like a sack of potatoes. Cali is already dashing for the Grifball by the time his sword powers down.

A flash of orange makes Cali stop herself from swearing out loud. DC glances around, searching for the path of least resistance to the Red Team's endzone.

"Get DC!" shouts Cali.

"Why is he orange?" Wash wails plaintively as all the others break off from whatever they were doing.

Cali lets the training room and the twelve others wipe clean out of her mind. Only DC matters now. She charges him, hammer sweeping up as she goes. He ducks under her blow and spins around Cali. She spits angrily and plunges after him. She weaves through players unseen in her conscious mind. If she can only get a clear line on him…

Out of the blue, DC stoops. Cali grits her teeth and pulls up. She looks around. A flash of red nearby sends Cali sprinting for it. She grabs the Freelancer by the shoulder and hauls them back a safe distance.

DC straightens and makes to run back to his side. He stops dead when he sees the wall made up of Cali and her teammate.

"Well played," he acknowledges.

The Grifball explodes.

"What the _fu_ – "

"It does that." Cali releases Wash.

She speeds back to centre field before DC regains movement of his armour. Cali scoops the Grifball up and tucks it snugly into her now-orange chest.

"On me," she calls.

Nevada is the first to fall into a flanking position. The others quickly race to copy her. Cali runs full-out for the distant endzone. She jumps and errant swipe from a Blue Team member, stumbling a little when someone bumps into her left side.

Cali shoves clear of the thick fighting. Ten strides, nine now. Eight… seven –

A Freelancer big enough to only be Maine slams into Cali. She compares it to being hit by a freight train in a tornado. Cali's feet leave the ground and she goes flying end over end. The polycrete meets her back with more than enough force to drive the breath clean from her lungs. Cali lays wheezing for a moment, Grifball clutched tightly to her labouring chest before hearing a sword bearing down on her. Forgetting about being winded, Cali rolls to her feet and promptly crouches again. Maine knocked her right to the ball stand.

As soon as the Grifball touches the clamps, Cali releases it and swipes at the massive agent. The hammer connects with his shoulder. He twists from the impact, opening a gap from Cali to leap away from the impending blast. She shakes her head to clear it after squeezing by.

"Match point, agents," announces FILSS. DC and Cali agreed the first to two would be enough to get everyone tired out.

"Make a wall so they can't get through," suggests Utah.

"As long as it isn't in the endzone," Wyoming adds.

Blinking sweat from her eyes, Cali watches her team close the gaps around the middle line. She trots over and slides into a gap. She catches her breath while DC hesitates. If he runs by, someone will just lock his armour and Cali will steal the ball.

His orange head half-turns to issue orders while maintaining a close watch over the Red Team.

"Push forward," instructs Cali.

In nearly perfect synchronization, all seven step towards the Blue Team. They hold a steady pace. Cali thinks quickly as she marches. It will probably come down to stealing the Grifball and running like greased lightning. She has no idea what DC's move will be, or even how to steal from him.

The Blue Team charges forward. Cali matches their speed and her teammates follow suit. They meet with a huge and resounding clamour. Florida floors Connie. Utah locks up after being stabbed at by North. York jostles forward to swing at Cali. She drops to her knees and skids – showering sparks – under his attack.

Cali adjusts her weight and bowls DC's legs out from under him. He collapses in an ungainly tangle. Cali narrowly escapes being flattened like a leaf. She leaps on him and grabs for the ball. She grits her teeth as they grapple.

DC flips Cali onto the floor and feints at her face with the ball. She doesn't flinch, knowing he won't hit her on purpose. She finds a grip on the ball and twists it in DC's arms. He lets out a cry of pain as his elbows overextend. She powers upward, throwing him off and wrenching the Grifball away. She trips over something by her feet and falls to the ground. She hauls herself back up. As Cali makes to run forward, something drags her back. A glance down shows DC's hands wrapped around her ankle. She kicks wildly to free herself, but it is not easy. Finally, she breaks away.

Cali runs for the ball stand. Elation surges in her chest as she crosses into the endzone. With a crow of triumph, she sets the Grifball down. Before she can dash away, though, it goes off.

Her arms and legs stiffen. She feels her armour lock and falls to the ground. It doesn't stop her from shouting though the rest of her team can't hear. "We won! Great work Red Team! We _won_!"

Her armour eases back to full mobility and she springs up. Instantly her team falls on her. Freelancers are clapping Cali on the back, shaking her hand, slapping her helmet and punching her lightly on the chest.

"Awesome play at the end!"

"I looked up for a second and you were off like a _shot_."

"I _knew_ we'd win."

Cali finds DC. "So," she says casually. "You owe me 25 creds."

"I don't know what you're – "

"Good game, DC," she laughs. "I didn't think that last point would be ours for a second there."

"Good game," he returns, dipping his white and crimson head. "We'll see about those creds."


	8. We Were All Friends

**When We Were All Friends**

_-More like a family_

"Hey, do you guys realize, we're on the literal_ mother ship_?"

"Cali, that was worse than Wyoming's jokes," groans York.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Wyoming and Cali bark in unison.

York shakes his head. "Nothing," he replies. He tries to look innocent, but can't quite pull it off.

Cali closes her locker door, towel in one hand. "If you won't tell me, then I guess I'll have to use up all the hot water," she threatens.

"You wouldn't dare!" York's features take on an expression of horror.

She fights to keep a straight face while edging closer to the showers. Cali breaks down and roars with laughter about halfway there. "You want to rethink that?"

She has to duck when Connie lobs a pale yellow running shoe at her. "Just _go_ already!"

Cali hastily gets into the shower, before her roommate runs low on apparel to hum at her head. Now familiar with the shower console in front of her, Cali shakes her head with a grin. She remembers her first encounter with this contraption. It was after that first training exercise with York, North and Connie. Cali had stood there for a full six minutes, fuming at the strange array of knobs and dials, before caving and asking the smug and motherly FILSS for a tutorial. Only to end up hopping from foot to foot as alternating scalding and frigid jets of water sprayed at her from every direction. That was also when Cali discovered that swearing at the top of her lungs wasn't a good idea since the showers are not soundproof.

When she steps back into the locker room, the Dakotas have left and Carolina is deep in conversation with York. Maine is on his way out with Wash.

"Hey, I'll meet you back at our room, all right?" says Connie.

"Sure thing." Cali gets dressed quickly. She wrings her hair out again before trailing out into the hall.

Her stomach growls. Cali winces, she hasn't eaten since prior to the team – her included for once – left for the Simulation Trooper base that morning. Infrared-style King of the Hill really takes it out of a girl.

The mess hall is only occupied by two other Freelancers. Cali narrows her eyes, trying to match a name to their faces. She snaps her fingers suddenly. "Kentucky and Jersey."

She sits by herself at Team One's table. She inhales a ham-type meat sandwich and bottle of water.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my biggest Grifball rival, returned from her first mission at last," drawls a familiar voice.

"DC, I _didn't see_ you there," Cali greets. She licks the last of the sandwich's mustard from her fingers.

He arches an eyebrow and sits across from her. "Oh, ha-ha. You are a regular riot, California. I haven't heard _that_ one yet."

"Was it that good?"

DC shakes his head, sandy bangs falling into his eyes. He pushes the hair aside. "Not in the slightest."

Cali grins and shrugs a shoulder. "Oh well, plenty more where that came from," she says, referring to her bad puns on his name.

He grunts and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "And what brings you here at three in the afternoon?"

"I was actually just getting ready to head back to my room for a bit. I thought I had better stop off here now, rather than chew off Connie's arm," explains Cali.

"How fortunate," DC chuckles, "for I was simply preparing to venture in that direction myself. Perhaps we could walk together?"

"What year did you say this was?" Cali stands and leads the way. Now their walk only takes a minute or so. They haven't taken the scenic route to the mess hall from their quarters – or vice versa – since that first morning.

"I didn't," he responds. "You don't know it, but you are in a temporal warp. This is actually the future and we have gone back to speaking like in the Dark Ages."

"I'll catch you later," she says, shaking her head, when they arrive at her room. She goes inside. "What a pleasant surprise!"

Wash looks up as Cali walks over to where he is sprawled across her bed.

"I go for a late lunch and you decided to rent my half of the room out. Is that it?"

"No, Wash only dropped by," retorts Connie. "Don't be so dramatic."

Cali flops down on her bed next to Wash. "Sorry, but I'm not giving up my spot just because you're a guest."

He shuffles over to give her more space. "Was that your first mission _finally_ today?"

She snorts. "What gave it away? The part where I ignored all of North's orders to wander all alone in the caves or the part where I got shot sixteen times by South – who was on my team, by the way – for letting Wyoming slip by?"

"Stop already," Connie laughs.

Cali pouts. "That's right. Laugh at my misfortunes. It's not like I could feel any worse!"

"I just hope you aren't on my team again next time," says Wash. He yelps when Cali nearly shoves him from her bed.

"I just hope I won't be _on_ a team next time," she counters. Then she sighs.

"What's in there?" Wash jerks his chin at the door next to the closet, abruptly changing the subject.

"That thing?" Connie shrugs. "No idea."

Cali frowns for a moment. Realization dawns on her after a look from Connie. Time for some fun.

"What? You've lived here for _two months_ and still don't know where a strange, extra door goes… in your own room?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds _dumb_," mutters Connie.

"That's because it _is_ dumb," asserts Cali. "It's high time we found out where that door goes." She stands and crosses the room.

"Is she always so melodramatic?" Wash asks, just loud enough for the redhead to hear.

Cali poses before opening the door and adds, "She is." She opens the door. The playful smirk falls from her face. "Oh my god. It's… it's just – " she goes into the small alcove. She shuts the door behind her so Wash doesn't see in. Cali sits down on the seat built into the window alcove and takes in the beautiful stars.

Cali thinks it has been about ten or eleven minutes when Connie peeks her head in.

"Wow, I can't believe it," she breathes in awe. Well, supposed awe, it is a fair approximation. Cali's roommate pulls the door closed and sits next to her friend.

"Nice," says Cali with a grin.

They settle in. This time Cali hears Washington's footsteps near the alcove's manual door. He hesitates before opening it. The anticipation in his green eyes dies faster than the average mayfly. Disappointment crawls into the hole left behind.

"Boo!" shouts Cali, faking a lunge at his face.

With a yelp, Wash slams the door on her. Connie falls to the floor, howling with laughter at his reaction. Cali reaches over her roommate and lets herself out, gasping around giggles.

Wash sits on the floor and throws them a glare.

"You should have seen your face," Cali gasps.

"Not. Funny."

"It is from where I was sitting," objects Connie.

"Whatever," he huffs.

Cali turns to her roommate. "He's allowed back."

* * *

Prank inspired by How I Met Your Mother.


	9. I Moved Out

_Yeah, it's Monday again. One more week and I'll be returning to updating early in the morning (Western Hemisphere). _

_Storm, I have a better answer to your question. The line under the title is Cali's thoughts as she remembers what happened in each chapter. _

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

**When I Moved Out**

_-It was time to change scenery_

"That's the last of it." Connie sets down her tape roller triumphantly.

"You sure? There's still a pile of shit in here," Nevada says with a raised eyebrow. Her nut brown skin shines in the pale lighting of the room.

"If there's any _shit_ in here, I'm calling the carestaff." DC pokes his sandy head over the tower of boxes in the centre of the two-person room.

"I own no shit," Cali proclaims. "And yes, that is everything now."

Wash points at her stripped bed. "Please tell me that thing is staying."

"Yes, there's already one there. Connie can just throw her dirty clothes there. At least now she won't have to duck since I can't throw them back anymore," replies Cali.

"I guess we'll get this stuff over to the new room," suggests DC tactfully. He hefts a pair of boxes and staggers theatrically. "If I hadn't packed these myself, I'd swear you had filled them with rocks when I wasn't looking."

"Oh, quit your whining." Nev picks up a couple for herself. "Ooof, I stand corrected."

Wash says nothing, just grabs two more boxes and follows the other Freelancers to Cali's new room.

Now only Connie and the agent moving out remain. Their shared quarters seem large and bare not that half of the belongings have been liquidated. Connie glances around briefly and blows out a sigh.

Cali smiles wistfully. "I'm not leaving the_ Invention_. I'm only moving down the hall."

"I know," responds Connie slowly. "We've just been here together for three months. Now it seems empty without you in here."

Cali feels a lump rise in her throat. "Yeah. There's the closet I hid in the third day. Remember when you came in and then I tackled you out of it?"

Connie chuckles halfheartedly. "And remember the day I put that glitter in your bed?"

"I was picking sparkles out of my hair for three weeks," agrees the gold Freelancer. "Yeah, there's a lot of memories here. I'll miss it."

"Miss the room, or miss me?"

Cali glances at her best friend. The dark haired woman's eyes are bright with moisture. "Both, stupid."

Connie hugs her former roommate. "I know I'm being dumb, acting like you're leaving for good. I know you aren't abandoning me, it just… It kind of feels like it."

Cali squeezes Connie's shoulders and steps back. "I'm the last agent to get my own room, Connie. It's time to focus on training and getting to the top. I don't mean that I don't want to be friends or anything. I'm just ready to prove myself."

The brown Freelancer nods. She wipes her eyes. "Let's go and get you settled in your new quarters, 'kay?"

"I'll just be a moment." Suddenly, Cali feels strangled. She needs a minute alone with the memories.

Connie heads out of the room without a word. When the door closes, Cali sags.

She sits on the edge of the bed she used to sleep in. She looks at the bathroom she used to brush her teeth in twice a day. Cali gazes at the trunk at the foot of the bed her armour sometimes spent the night in. A smile quirks her lips when her grey eyes fall on the door to the alcove he passed so much time in, just sitting and thinking. Cali sighs. She is going to miss this place for sure.

But it is time for a change in scenery. If these three months have taught Cali anything, it is that change is inevitable. She proved it herself by falling to fifteenth place on the Leader Board. Then again by returning to twelfth. By showing she can complete a mission – alone, of course. Finally, by making invaluable friends in Nev, DC, North, Wash, York and Connie.

She stands with a weary sigh. She labouriously crosses the room. She steps through the door, swiping away the flowing tears.

Cali never glances backwards.


	10. I Saw You With Her

_You guys wanted Cali and Wash romance? I totally forgot this was the next chapter! Surprise for everyone today._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**When I Saw You With Her**

_-Promise me she's not your world_

Cali laughs. She shakes her head at the ridiculous remark Wash just made. He returns an easy grin.

"What's up?" Connie sits beside Cali, her tray loaded with bland ship food.

"We were only discussing how you never see the Counselor without his datapad," explains Wash. "I asked if Cali thought he showered with it."

Connie wrinkles her nose and changes the subject. Cali finds her mind wandering from the new topic. Wash tilts his head and listens intently, a smirk tugging one corner of his lips. His green eyes darken with curiosity as Connie speaks avidly about her training session that morning.

A jab in the ribs causes Cali to whirl in her seat. A bemusedly-smiling York retracts his hand. Cali throws a frown at him.

"You coming, Cali?"

"Sorry, what?" She turns back to see Wash standing and gazing expectantly at her.

"I asked if you were coming to watch my session after all. You said you would, remember?"

Cali shakes her head free of her deep thoughts. "Yeah. Sure I'm coming. York?"

The tan Freelancer stretches. "Right behind you."

XOX

York leans on the rail next to Cali, their bulky armour touching. He watches the agents on the floor with feigned disinterest. Utah and Colorado warm up hand to hand combat with one another, Maine talks strategy with Wash. North loads his sniper rifle while Carolina coolly overlooks them all.

A prompt from FILSS causes Carolina's team, Rado and Wash, to fall in on her and the others to gather around North. The four minutes that follow are filled with them murmuring plans around.

"So, when are you going to cut the starry-eyed girl act?"

Cali is so absorbed by the two three-man fireteams squaring off, she barely registers York's query. "Pardon?"

He half turns to face her. "Come on, I saw you at lunch, Cali."

Her stomach tightens. "When are _you_ going to ditch the routine, Cowboy?" she counters defensively.

York says nothing for a while. Cali takes that to mean she is off the hook and redirects her attention to the match. The agents are busy firing at one another, hardly pausing to think about Agent Michigan's disastrous final training bout a month ago.

"Carolina has no interest in anything by the Project," spits York.

"Is that so? And she told you that personally, I'm sure."

He sighs. "No. She didn't, but it's all she seems to have time for."

"Maybe you should say something to her, seriously, I mean."

"Then what about you?"

Cali winces as the conversation ventures into uncomfortable territory once more. "What about me?" she asks, pretending not to understand the prod.

Wash tumbles to the floor, limbs splayed out. She can't halt the gasp that escapes from her throat in reaction.

"'What about you' indeed," mutters York. "I've seen the way you are with dear Agent Washington."

"Oh? Enlighten me," she challenges him with bravado sorely lacking.

"He walks into the room and it's like everything else leaves. He asks for help and who is there? Miss Cali California, that's who."

"I'm not like that at all!"

"Methinks thou dost protest too much," chuckles York. "Only when you think CT isn't watching."

Cali blows out a gusty sigh. "That's just it, isn't it? CT – Connie – is all over him. Every time I turn around, she's inviting him to go to her quarters or to be on her team for a match."

York shrugs. "So stop turning around."

Wash stands up and ducks behind cover. His team begins to beat back the opposition, Carolina leading the charge. York leans against the window.

"Thank god you're here, York," snarks Cali. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Probably mope about like a mushroom."

"Agent New York, I demand real advice!"

The forcefulness takes both Cali and York by surprise.

"Shit." She studies the floor in sudden interest.

He laughs heartily. After finally regaining composure, York flashes her a thoughtful look. "Tell him. If you don't, he'll just get closer to Connie and you'll regret not saying anything."

She bites her lip. "I don't want to."

Carolina glances up at Snipe Central. York gives her a cocky smile and half wave.

"I know you don't. Terrifying idea, isn't it?"

Cali thinks for a moment. "All right, how about a deal? I will tell Wash how I feel if you profess your undying love for Carolina." She offers a hand.

York stares at her long and hard. For a horrible minute, Cali fears her friend will laugh or leave or reject the idea. Surprising her, he takes Cali's proffered hand. "Deal."

They shake.

"Let's go congratulate them."

Cali gallops down the stairs. She stops short when Connie and Wash meet her.

"You want to hang out in your room for a bit?" the brunette asks.

"Just us three." Wash waggles his eyebrows, Cali guesses it is supposed to be invitingly.

"Oh, an invite to my own room? You shouldn't have," she replies. Seeing the twin expressions of impatience, Cali relents. "Okay, you two go on ahead, I have to change out of my armour. See you in a few!"

XOX

Cali sprints down the last stretch of hallway before her room. She meant to meet Wash and Connie forty minutes ago, but ran into a chatty North, despite his team's defeat in the match. She arrives and lets herself in.

She enters with a flourish. Her greeting dies on her lips, a strangled noise drags itself out of her chest in its place. Her smile shatters at what is waiting for her.

Wash and Connie are seated on the middle of her bed, hands in one another's hair and lips locked together.

Cali's stomach drops to a place somewhere in the vicinity of the cold metal floor. Her jaw works helplessly but no sound comes out. She thinks she hears something fall.

Wash extricates himself from Connie at the sudden noise. A wide grin lights up his face. "Cali!"

"Oh, shit. Cali," Connie exclaims, a sheepish expression crawls across her delicate features. "I totally forgot you were coming. You just took so long and I thought – "

"No, it was me," admits Wash. "I wanted to and –"

"I'm tired," Cali interrupts their embarrassed yammering. "I want to get a nap before my supper."

There must be some hint on her face that convinces the other Freelancers Cali won't put up with any objections because her voice is flat. They get up hastily and pass Cali. They murmur quiet apologies.

Cali stands there for a long while after their excited atmosphere chases them out. She stares blankly at the spot her two best friends had been making out on her bed. After that, she looks down. Cali had dropped the clock from its shelf beside the door. She picks it up. Miraculously it is unharmed. She sets it back in place gently.

As if triggering a switch, Cali receives a flood of emotion. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

Jealousy.

Cali slides onto her bed heavily and flops down on her side. She curls up into a tight ball and gazes at the wall. Warm dampness prickles her skin as Cali recognizes distantly she is crying. In no time at all, her face is buried in the hard mattress to stifle the heartache pouring from her.

Throat raw from sobbing and screaming, eyes watery and puffy, Cali rises from her bed. She goes to the sink in the tiny bathroom. She splashes cold water across her face. Cali looks at herself in the mirror. Only reddened eyes hint at how she spent the past two hours. How easily Cali will pass it off as sleepiness.

Cali bites her lip and heads to the locker room. Hopefully a bit of food with DC will take her mind off of what York said.

_Tell him. If you don't, he'll just get closer to Connie._

Too late. Just too fucking late.


	11. He Hurt Me

_Sorry this is coming at you so late. Got a little behind myself this morning, I apologize for the delay._

_Just want to thank you guys, you're the best readers I could ever hope for. I'm glad you are enjoying it still! Cali sends her hugs._

* * *

**When He Hurt Me**

_-I was so scared_

It has been nearly a year since Wash and Connie were caught kissing on Cali's bed. A whole two years since Project Freelancer's beginning. Cali proudly defends her ninth place slot on the Leader Board. She suffers no illusions as to why she works so hard to keep a rank above Connecticut.

Every day Cali wraps up her hurt over her feelings, shoves it down and buries it in her gold and green armour. If nobody sees it, it doesn't exist.

But York still sees it.

Cali doesn't ignore the sympathetic glances from him or DC, who knows the whole story. She is grateful for their open ears whenever she needs one. But her best friends can't fix everything. Each time she is with Wash and Connie, it is like holding a jammed gun to her forehead. She has no idea when it will go off and blow her brains out, so she tries to lean away from it.

"Beginning training session," calls FILSS. "Good luck!"

Cali curls her fingers into fists. It feels good to have a place to put all of her pent up energy. Today, relief comes in the huge white and orange form of Maine. It is intimidating to stand alone in a polycrete box with the massive agent.

"Hand-to-hand combat… begin."

She cracks the middle knuckle of each finger individually with her thumbs. A satisfying popping noise accompanies every jerk of her thumb. She gives a sharp flick of both wrists simultaneously to crack them as well. The habit Cali picked up sometimes freaks out other Freelancers and, more commonly, _Invention_ personnel.

Across from her, Maine finishes his pre-sparring ritual of retightening his bracers. They exchange a short nod. Cali's mind clicks into battle mode.

In a rush that threatens to rip the air from the gold agent's chest, Maine collides with her. His heavy arms slide over her metal-clad body, searching for purchase on the smooth surface. She cuffs him in the side of the head and wriggles away.

She gasps in a breath and sidesteps his next lunge. Cali aims a kick at Maine as he charges past. It connects, but only glances off the white of the other agent's shin. The weak blow succeeds in causing Maine to stumble.

"Get over here," growls Maine. Cali hears annoyance and frustration in his voice.

She ducks a wicked jab that has his entire weight behind it as he turns to face her again. She powers upward and butts her helmeted head into her opponent's elbow.

Maine lets out a roar and grabs for her. She can't twist out of range fast enough. Maine's fingers fist awkwardly around the left shoulder guard on the other agent. She throws an off-balance sucker punch at his chest. He reacts by shoving her to the hard floor by the shoulder. She tries to resist until her shins attempt to go push themselves through her kneecaps. Cali finds her visor only showing a flat grey surface with a thin white line running through it and, at first, thinks it is a malfunction. When it the line widens to a crack after Maine's appendage – presumably his foot – grinds her head against the floor, she begins to worry.

She rolls out from under the white and orange Freelancer with some difficulty. Cali leaps to her feet, staggering when stars float leisurely by. She notices the crack is in her visor, not the floor. A long and jagged line bisects her vision from left to right.

He charges head-on at her again. She backpedals. She grits her teeth after colliding with the wall. The crack has already worsened.

"Fuck it," she hisses.

Maine kicks at her. Thinking quickly, Cali drops and slides under his leg. Popping up after, she delivers a sharp blow to his lower – and less-protected – back. He whips around and backhands her across the face. That is what does it.

Cali screams as glass flies inwards at her face. She instinctively throws her hands up and screws her eyes shut. A vain attempt to close it out. Icy shards pierce the skin of her face. Everything is slicing pain and sticky hotness on her skin. It hurts, it hurts, _it hurts_.

The next thing she knows, Cali is on her back, gloved hands gingerly cradling her shattered face. She mumbles incoherently through great heaving sobs. Shards sit proud in her skin, embedded deep into her flesh all over. Her nose hangs off at a disgusting angle, held on by a thin strip of sinew. Salt and pain are on her tongue.

Red flashes in her vision. Cali does not know if it is from the trauma or if someone has called for help. For a heart stopping moment, everything loses definition and goes black.

Creaking armour. Raised voices. She wants to say. To _scream_. Make the pain stop.

"Cali? Cali, can you hear me?"

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Where are the medics?"

"Did you mean to do that?"

The last demand is followed directly by the sound of armour connecting with armour with a massive amount of force. A sharp intake of a surprised breath. A deep and menacing growl.

"_No_."

She shivers, despite being hot from the recent exertion. It starts out small but morphs into huge, shuddering spasms. Her entire body shakes, fingers rattling the glass burrowed in her face. She wants so badly for the spasms to end, but she can't make them.

Cali feels her hands being gently moved from her ruined face to her sides. A bright light above makes her cry out in revulsion. Her eyes sting with tears and a dark liquid. Tiny pricks of ice and fire wash over her. It is worst around her nose. The agony pulses through her with every breath, every cry and every heartbeat.

An unfamiliar voice. Soft and caring. Wrapped in white. Kneeling by her side.

She pushes the person away weakly. She moans as the motion jars her head, pushing bits of visor against the inside of her helmet.

"Agent California, I'm a medic. I'm here to help you."


	12. I Returned

**When I Returned**

_-I never thought it would be the same_

Cali wakes to a long and drawn out sigh. She feels heavy, as though she swallowed lead. She tries to open her eyes. She instantly regrets the decision when harsh lighting assails them. She shuts her eyes and then tries, more cautiously, again. She lets a groan drag through her chest and nose. That hurts.

"She's awake!" calls a voice nearby.

Cali tries to open her mouth to ask… _anything_. She freezes, body tense, at the alien feeling that follows the motion. It is as if her face is a sheet tucked too tightly over a large mattress. Her mouth is a cold elastic band, it feels as though if she pulls it too roughly, it will snap back on itself. Or in half. Her hands fly to her cheeks as panic flips her stomach.

"Hey, easy now. Just take a sec."

A pair of gentle hands curl over her own. They move together to her sides. Cali feels scratchy Infirmary sheets and a second jolt of intense fear courses through her. She begins to frown but quickly flinches away when her face refuses to respond.

_What happened to her?_

DC's hands fun over her cheeks. "Feel that?"

Cali manages to jerk her chin in an almost-nod. She can feel most of it, but not all. There are places where there is nothing but numbness.

He visibly relaxes, face yet ashen. "Good. Do you remember what happened?"

Remember? She thinks for a heartbeat. She remembers Maine backhanding her. The crack spiderwebbing across her visor. The glass exploding under the strain. She nods again with a faint whimper.

"You are _very_ lucky, Cali," DC says. "The glass didn't do any damage to your eyes and there wasn't any damage too permanent done. The skin on the right side of your nose was the only thing that held it on, but that was reattached. The shards were all removed and the puncture wounds stitched. They're healing over."

_Nothing too permanent_? Cali cracks her lips open. Sharp and fiery fingers of pain tighten over the bottom half of her face. "Wanna see," she rasps clumsily.

DC's mouth presses into a thin, pale line. He lifts a mirror from his lap. Wordlessly, he positions it so Cali can see her reflection.

Horror crawls heavily into her chest at the gruesome sight that welcomes her. Dark scabs pockmark her skin. Electric blue sutures hold them closed. They cover her face like a grisly patchwork quilt of flesh and SteriStrips. Her forehead, cheeks, chin, nose and eyelids are filled with ugly slash marks of varying size and colour. Along the left side of her nose is a line of neatly tied stitches, hiding a long, angry looking gash. That girl has the same eyes – filled now with moisture – and the same red hair – mussed from sleep – that California has. But that is not her.

She turns away from the horrendous image. "Thank you."

DC squeezes her hand. "The others are waiting outside to see you. Do you want them to?" he asks, concern colouring his voice.

Part of Cali wants to say no and curl away to cry. Part of her knows how worried they must be. "Okay."

DC smoothes her hair and stands. He crosses to the door. It opens and a handful of people enter. He quietly leaves.

Since none flinch at Cali's hideous visage, they must have known what to expect. She sits up against her pillows and looks at her hands as they knot in her lap. Connie sits lightly on the edge of the bed, Wash on Cali's other side. York sits in the chair DC just vacated and Maine stands at the foot of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Nevada asks from the doorway.

"Awful," croaks Cali honestly.

Worry clouds everyone's expressions.

"I mean, I feel fine. My face just hurts," she explains. The more Cali speaks, the more responsive her mouth is. "DC showed me how bad it is."

Wash and Connie take a firm grip on Cali's hands. She suddenly feels the urge to roll her eyes, which she indulges. It stings, but is worth it.

"Guys, I know it's going to take a _lot _of getting used to. I know I'm going to have a massive amount of scarring. Please stop feeling bad for me," she pleads. "I – I'll wear my armour and helmet more, you won't have to see it. I –"

"Cali, no one wants you to have to hide," interrupts Connie.

"We just want you back," adds Wash.

A ripple of agreement filters through the tiny room.

"If anyone has a problem with how you look, and that includes you, Cali," says York as he leans forward, "I'll smash up my own face."

"You would not," scoffs Wash.

"And sacrifice your 'good looks'?" Nev laughs, drawing air quotes.

York scowls at the assembled Freelancers as they laugh. Cali meets York's eyes, silently thanking him for cutting the tension.

"No one is bashing up their faces for me. That is final. Not even you, York."

XOX

A week later, Cali wakes up in her own room again. She checks her reflection in the mirror. Not out of vanity, but to ensure none of her numerous wounds show signs of infection. By now, most of the horrendous scabs and weeping lacerations have faded to scar tissue. Only where her nose had to be grafted back onto her face is still less than fully healed.

She straps on her armour, checking the fit. As she picks up her new helmet, flashes of shattering glass fills her mind. She drops it on her bed as though it burned her. She takes her armour back off and heads for the mess hall and breakfast.

In the hall, she ignores any long stares she gets from personnel. It was the hardest when she first left her Infirmary bed. Flanked by six friends, Cali still nearly broke down and sobbed in the corridor at every flinch, every disgusted sneer. Now it is just the crew's way of greeting her. Now the looks aren't followed by wild-eyed muttering and sighs.

"Cali," an unmistakable voice calls.

She half-waves at Maine when he catches up.

"I'm sorry about what happened," he says.

"It was an accident," she replies dismissively. She is tired of being treated like fresh ice, like too much pressure will break her. She is a goddamn Freelancer for fuck's sake!

He stops her by planting his bulk in her path. "I know that. I want to even it out you."

"And I want _you_ to stop feeling guilty," she counters. "I should have realized my visor was in desperate need of replacing."

"Cali," Maine whispers. He leans down and gently touches his lips to hers.

She jerks back, uncomfortable with the contact. The big man follows her and parts her lips. Wash's face flickers in her mind. Cali pushes against Maine's chest and ducks away with a noise of annoyance.

"What the fuck was that for?" she demands angrily.

Hurt flickers deep within Maine's brown eyes. "I – I love you," he stammers.

"No, you don't," she retorts. "You feel bad for me. You feel guilty about what happened. But you don't _love_ me."

"Cali, I do," Maine insists. He reaches for her again.

"No." She stops around him. With tears in her eyes that have nothing to do with physical pain, she goes to the mess hall.

"Cali, you're back!" everyone from Team One shouts at once. Even Carolina and South beam when she sits down.

Cali smiles thinly and begins to eat.

"You might fool them with that, Cali, but I know better," whispers Connie. "What happened?"

She looks at Wash and York meaningfully. They lean in to listen to her. She relates her tale, beginning with Maine, leaving out the panic attack over her helmet deliberately. They react with mixed shock and alarm.

"Maybe he really meant it," suggests Wash quietly.

"Really? Why would he?" asks Cali. "If he did, I feel terrible for what I said."

"Yeah, but if he didn't, then what you said was reasonable," replies Connie.

The four continue to analyze the strange event. As they chat, Cali notices Wash and Connie can't agree on anything. They always take opposing sides. They do not touch, never mind hold hands or drape their arms around one another like they normally would.

For the first time, Cali feels uncomfortable with being happy the two are not getting along.


	13. They Broke Up

_I admit, this is not what I had planned when I set out to write this chapter. I'm really sorry for making you wait for this. Hugs!_

* * *

**When They Broke Up**

_-It was only a question of time_

Cali stops outside the door. Angry shouts float out. A sorrowful reply follows. She lets her arm – raised to knock – drop to her side. She sighs and goes to her room instead.

"Hey, Cali." York leans against the wall by her door. "Nev said you were going to visit Connie."

She shakes her head in defeat. "Well, I _was_, but she and Wash are fighting again."

York blows out a sigh. "They've been going at it all week."

Cali shrugs. "So, where's _Lina_?" She lifts an eyebrow.

York's face reddens. "Shut up, Cali," he hisses.

She laughs and makes kissing noises.

"She was so embarrassed when you walked in!"

"Why? It's not like I expected you to be trading saliva in the middle of the team's locker room," Cali flashes back. "It's a public place!"

"Did you hear about Utah?" York sobers abruptly, clearly eager to drop the subject.

Worry and dread shut down on Cali's laughter. She shakes her head. "What happened?"

York looks down as he pushes off from the cold metal wall. "Utah deployed his bubble shield in his test run, but made some miscalculations." he explains. "It… collapsed on his head."

Cali feels emptiness engulf her. "So soon after Georgia…" she trails off sadly. She tries not to focus on the whole head-injury case, but images flash through her head unbidden. Reinforced glass, blood, the Infirmary and her new face.

"Well, the medics say he'll live, they're really worried about permanent brain damage, though." He sighs.

"How many have we lost now?" she asks, only half wanting an answer. "Three? Four?"

"I know. It's getting pretty bad." York nods before looking up sharply at the noise of a door slamming.

Connie bursts from her room in tears. She hurries toward Cali and York. Wash, face like stone and set in a scowl, stomps in the opposite direction without a backward glance.

"I should talk to him," mutters York. He follows his old roommate.

Connie pushes past York without even noticing the taller agent.

Cali opens her door and guides her tear-sodden best friend in after. She sits her down on the bed and plunks down next to her. Connie falls into Cali's shoulder. She holds the other Freelancer tightly. She rocks her and murmurs quiet reassurances until the uncontrollable sobbing subsides roughly.

Connie draws away, dark eyes still wet. She wipes her face. "It's over."

Cali squeezes the other girl's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she says. She quashes the hope and relief in her heart. "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

Connie shakes her head in misery. "Thanks, but I – I'd rather be alone."

Cali wonders if she should tell her what happened to Utah. She decides against it, not wanting to upset her further. Instead, she says, "The Director told my class that Team Two and One are finally getting our enhancements."

"It's been so long, all the other teams got theirs' ages ago." Connie perks up a little at the news. "It's so unfair."

"He said we had to wait so long because our units had to be specially matched."

"I wonder what they are," comments Connie.

"We'll find out soon enough."


	14. He Kissed Me

_Well, I'm just going to say that I've been busy. And I didn't mean to make you all wait so long for this. Enjoy! Because I know you will._

* * *

**When He Kissed Me**

_-There was nothing I'd ever wanted more_

Cali is alone in the locker room. She sits on the bench, nearly entirely in her armour. In her hands is her shiny new helmet. She stares blankly at it as though it just insulted her unexpectedly.

Wash enters, whistling lightly. Ever since the breakup with Connie, he has been cheerier. He stops cold in his tracks when he sees Cali on the bench. Her head is bent over the helmet, nose nearly touching the top of it.

She glances at him briefly before returning her steel gray eyes warily to it. She can't seem to leave it unsupervised.

"Are you testing next?" Wash asks.

Cali nods silently, eyes riveted to her helmet. She is supposed to be running her enhancement test in twenty minutes. If she can get suited up.

He sits next to her, almost near enough to touch. "Just that left."

She nods again. Her fingers tighten on the rim around the opening. "I can never get farther."

Wash's brown draws down thoughtfully. "Why?" he presses softly.

She bites her lip. She says nothing for a long moment. The silence weighs heavily on her shoulders. "I'm scared," she admits finally, voice barely louder than a whisper of breath.

When he doesn't reply, her face begins to burn. Tears prick in her eyes. "I can't forget it. Every time I try to put it on, I see the glass shattering. I feel it."

"Cali," says Wash. He takes hold of her chin and gently tugs it around to meet his gaze. His clear, deep green eyes are full of concern.

She doesn't fight him, despite the fact she could kill him seven different kinds of dead without a weapon before he even realized. She meets his stare. She feels him calm her with nothing more than one look.

"Can you try for me?" He releases her.

Cali closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She lifts the helmet, heavy in her hands. As she positions it to slide over her head, the sound of cracking glass echoes through her. Her ears ring with the sound of her visor exploding in her face. _Utah deployed his bubble shield… collapsed on his head._

She lets out a broken whimper and nearly drops her gold helmet in her haste to get it away from her head. She takes in a shuddering breath and realizes faintly that tears are wetting her face. She shakes her head in defeat. "I… can't."

Wash carefully takes the helmet from her. He sets it down on his far side. "You can wear your ball cap…?"

Cali looks away. She stares at her locker door. "My hat isn't going to smash into a million shards and slice open my face."

"Cali, you _can_ do this, I know you can," he insists. "You're the one who dares people to laugh at those scars. I've seen you take on three Troopers at once. You're strong."

"Maybe I'm not as strong as you think," she replies, voice low and slow.

He stands suddenly. "Close your eyes and trust me."

She looks at him dubiously.

"Trust me?" he asks.

Cali closes her eyes. She feels him stand and move away. He is only gone for a moment. When he returns, he sits on her other side, leaving the helmet glaring accusingly and unseen at her.

"No peeking," he threatens. "I mean it."

She hears him moving and screws her eyes shut. The next thing she knows, Wash's smell is all around her. She breathes in the scent of pine trees and his sweat. She sighs.

Then she feels something slide over her hair. Panic grips her heart like and icy fist when her suit seals with a hiss. Cali's eyes fly open to Wash's HUD.

"No, take it _off_!" she begs him. Her hands scrabble against his chest in wild fear.

His hand is on her shoulder. "Breathe in," he instructs. "I won't take it off until you calm down." He pins her hands to the bench.

Cali struggles to fight down her terror. It tries to claw its way out of her chest. A crack appears on the visor, splitting Wash's face in two. "Wash, look!" She points her chin frantically at the depolarized visor.

"There's nothing there," he murmurs soothingly. "It's fine, Cali; I'm here."

She blinks and the long flaw in the glass is gone. She nods nervously. "O-okay," she croaks weakly.

"Just breathe now, okay?" He keeps on talking to her.

She takes her time to regulate the heaving gasps of air. When her breathing returns to normal, Wash pulls his helmet off.

Cali's hands tangle in her hair with relief. She laughs nervously. "That was terrifying," she admits.

Wash grins. "That was awesome."

She smacks him. "You enjoyed me going to pieces!" A thin layer of sweat coats her face.

He shakes his head vehemently. "No, I mean, watching you get control over your fear was awesome," he corrects her. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Cali leans back on her hands and blows out a gusty sigh.

"Ready to try your own now?" he asks.

She balls her fingers into fists and sets her jaw. "All right."

Wash reaches across her to pick up the gold helmet. "All right. Here we go."

Cali steels herself, ready for the helpless and wild panic. She holds her breath and brings to mind the scent of Wash. She can nearly smell it. Faintly, Cali hears her armour seal. She opens her eyes calmly.

Wash smiles, his spiky blond hair is on sideways. "You're doing fine."

She smiles wanly back at him, She feels the terror welling up inside and clamps down on it. She knows it is okay to be afraid. She also knows she can control that fear. Cali stands and walks around the room. Her breath falls into a reasonable rhythm again.

When she sits down, Wash gently removes her helmet. Cali lets relief show through on her face. "Awesome," she says.

Wash leans close to her. "Awesome," he agrees. His lips touch Cali's.

Surprise threads through her for a moment before relaxing. She lets him turn more forceful, pressing her for more. Cali's body is tight with happiness. This is all she has wanted for so long. Her hands curl into his hair. His mouth is hard on hers. She tastes his hot breath and skin on her tongue.

He moves along Cali's jaw, tracing the line slowly. He touch disappears and he moves over deadened islands of scar tissue. Cali pulls him closer, even though his armour is tight against hers. He returns to her mouth.

This is the best day of Cali's life.


End file.
